


dig a pony

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Beatles Tribute [18]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Nightmares, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18385682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “I love dad,” Brandon then bursts out quickly and looks to Jon. “I love you and you’re the best dad in the world.”It’s dad’s turn to look sad now; his eyes even looking a little wet. But he still gives Brandon a small smile and puts a hand affectionally on the back of his head.Brandon then looks back to Sansa. “But I know… he’s not…” he stumbles over his words.





	dig a pony

**Author's Note:**

> I had a few other titles for this story before I decided on "Dig a Pony". I alway think of Sansa and little Brandon at Sansa and Jon's wedding reception, dancing to this song, and I imagine it to be their song. 
> 
> This is a John Lennon song and he said it was a piece of garbage, but he actually said that about quite a few of his songs. It was written for Yoko Ono, and featured strange, nonsense phrases which were strung together in what Lennon refers to as a Bob Dylan style of lyric.
> 
> This is one of my personal favorite Beatles songs.

…

 

Mom’s screaming somewhere, but Brandon doesn’t know where she is. But he can hear her. She’s screaming, terrified, and then he hears hits – skin against skin – and mom screams more.

 

Brandon spins in a circle, but everything’s pitch black around him. He can’t even tell if his eyes are open or not. “Mom!” He yells out, sticking his hands out in front of him, trying to feel for anything. But there’s nothing. Just black and nothing past that.

 

She’s still screaming. Someone is still hitting her and Brandon can feel tears leaking from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. His hands still try to claw at _anything_ , but there’s just nothing. Nothing except the black and his mom’s screams as someone beats her and Brandon calls out for her again. But she can’t hear him and Brandon can’t get to her.

 

_“…sweetling…”_

Slowly, quietly, he hears his mom’s voice. Far away at first and then getting closer. She’s speaking softly, but Brandon is able to hear it clearly.

 

The black begins to fade.

 

“…sweetling… Brandon…”

 

The voice is quiet, gentle, but it’s mom’s voice and Brandon is able to open his eyes. It’s not black. It’s dark, but the nightlight in the hallway sends a faint glow into his room so he can see and what he sees is his mom, sitting on the side of his bed. She’s not crying or screaming and she’s not being beaten. Brandon gasps when he sees her and flies into a sitting position, throwing his arms around her, and Sansa hugs him.

 

“It’s alright, Brandon. It was just a bad dream,” she tells him and Brandon can feel his heart still racing in his chest. “You’re safe now.”

 

“Someone was hurting you,” Brandon mumbles into her shoulder.

 

Sansa’s arms tighten around him. “We’re both safe now,” she tells him in a quiet voice.

 

He doesn’t know how long they sit there, hugging one another, but Brandon knows that he’s not ready for it to end yet. He also doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get back to sleep tonight. The nightmare is still in his head; screams and slaps still ringing in his ears. He has no idea what time it is, but he thinks he might be up now for good.

 

“I think we could both use some hot chocolate,” Sansa says, pulling her head back so she can look to Brandon and she gives him a small smile. “What do you think?”

 

Brandon nods his head immediately and Sansa smiles before kissing him on the forehead.

 

She stands up and Brandon pushes the covers from his body. He notices immediately that Lady isn’t here and she’s always here. Ever since he was a baby, Lady’s been sleeping at first, his crib’s side, and then his bed.

 

Following his mom downstairs, he has his answer. Dad is standing at the backdoor in the sunroom, looking out the back windows, both Ghost and Lady nowhere inside and clearly having been let outside for the moment.

 

Brandon wonders how loud his nightmare had been where it woke up both of his parents. At least his brothers and sisters are still asleep. That would have been chaos to have them wake up in the middle of the night like this.

 

His eyes float over to the clock on the stove. It’s almost four o’clock. Not quite the middle of the night anymore, but still way too early to already be awake.

 

Brandon follows Sansa into the kitchen. His mom makes the best hot chocolate and for as long as he can remember, it’s been a staple of his and her diets. He remembers when it was just the two of them in their little house after moving out of Grandpa and Grandma’s; they would have pajama days and watch movies and television shows and wearing their pajamas, they would sit on the couch together and drink mugs of hot chocolate.

 

That’s one of his favorite memories and sometimes – and he loves his dad and his younger siblings – but sometimes, he wishes he and his mom could have pajama days; just the two of them. He doesn’t tell her that though. He knows her. She’ll feel sad and guilty and then Brandon will feel sad and guilty for making her feel that way.

 

Sometimes, Sansa will mix chocolate and an egg together, melting it together before stirring in hot milk, but sometimes, she will use a hot cocoa mix and that’s what she uses this early morning.

 

Brandon stands at the stove, watching her as she heats a saucepan of milk. She takes a large tin container of powered hot chocolate mix from their pantry and scoops out enough for three ceramic mugs. In the milk, she drops in the tiniest amount of vanilla, never stopping in stirring slowly with the whisk. And when they see the tiny bubbles forming around the edges and if they listen, they can hear the milk hissing, Sansa lifts the saucepan from the burner and separates it into the three mugs. Brandon goes to get a spoon to stir and Sansa takes the pan to wash out in the sink.

 

By this time, Jon has come back into the kitchen with Ghost and Lady and the house is locked up good and tight again.

 

Lady comes right to Brandon and Brandon smiles down at her, giving her head a rub, Lady nudging his thigh in response.

 

“Smells delicious,” Jon says, taking his mug and taking a moment to just smell it. Brandon smiles and does that, too, the chocolate and faint vanilla slamming into his nostrils and the screams of his mom from his nightmare are starting to get fainter and fainter in his mind.

 

Sansa takes her own mug and looks to Brandon. “Would you like to go into the family room?”

 

Brandon hesitates for a moment. He knows his mom wants to know about his nightmare, but he also knows that she won’t actually ask about it. She will wait for him to talk about it and Brandon’s not sure he wants to.

 

But... it had been awful and maybe talking about it will help.

 

Brandon nods and then goes first, Sansa and Jon following and they all settle down on the L-shaped couch, Brandon sitting between his parents. The lamp on one of the end tables is on, the only light in the open space of the kitchen and family room – besides the light left on over the sink – and it creates a warm circle. _Safe_.

 

“You were screaming and someone was beating you and I couldn’t get to you,” Brandon dives right in, saying it all in one breath.

 

From one side of him, from the corner of his eye, he can see dad go completely still, but Brandon turns his head to look at mom.

 

Sansa looks at him for a moment and she looks so sad. When it was just her and him, Brandon remembers her being so sad so many times, but she had tried so hard to hide and keep it from him. Still, Brandon could always tell and he can still recognize the look though she’s not nearly as sad as often as she used to be. Brandon knows it’s because of dad and the other kids.

 

Sometimes, Brandon wonders why he wasn’t enough to always make mom happy all of the time.

 

“I know you have scars…” Brandon has seen them enough times. When he was younger, Sansa had gotten surgery to have one of them removed and he had brought her cups of juice and water and bowls of Cheez-Its when she had to stay in bed.

 

This past summer, Grandpa Ned had rented a massive lake house for the whole family and everyone had gone. Sansa had worn a bathing suit and so many of her scars were on display. No one – not even the younger kids – asked about them though. It’s almost as if they are a natural part of her body because Sansa moves with them as if they are and she didn’t shy away or try to hide them from everyone’s eyes. It’s almost as if she’s proud of them, in a way.

 

“I do,” Sansa agrees. She takes a sip of her hot chocolate and Brandon remembers the own mug in his hands and he takes a sip of his hot chocolate, too.

 

“I love dad,” Brandon then bursts out quickly and looks to Jon. “I love you and you’re the best dad in the world.”

 

It’s dad’s turn to look sad now; his eyes even looking a little wet. But he still gives Brandon a small smile and puts a hand affectionally on the back of his head.

 

Brandon then looks back to Sansa. “But I know… he’s not…” he stumbles over his words.

 

Sansa leans forward, sliding her mug onto the coffee table in front of them, and then turns more towards Brandon. “He’s not. There was a man before your dad…” she visibly swallows. “He was a very cruel man and he gave me all of my scars.”

 

Brandon’s hands tighten around the mug he’s holding and he feels like can’t breathe.

 

Sansa gives him a small smile, still looking so sad, but she’s still able to smile. “You know how sometimes I tell you that you’ll never understand how much I love you?” She asks him and Brandon nods, not able to look away from her, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. “When I was with this man, and he beat me, I couldn’t leave because he had scared me enough to think that he was all I had and… and he would hurt me even worse if I did try to leave. But you know what happened then?”

 

This time, Brandon shakes his head. He feels scared, but he’s ten now and he knows that he’s old enough to hear this.

 

“I found out I was pregnant with you,” she smiles again and she’s not looking as sad. “And when I found out, I ran. I finally ran and got myself away from him. You saved my life, Brandon.”

 

Brandon is breathing again and when he sees tears in his mom’s eyes – despite her smile – he feels tears sting his own. He closes his eyes and Sansa leans forward, resting her forehead to his head.

 

“You are the absolutely best thing I’ve ever done, Brandon,” she tells him quietly now. “And I look at you every single day and think of how lucky I am that I have you.”

 

Brandon feels a tear on his cheek and mom wipes it away for him, kissing him on the head.

 

“What happened to him?” Brandon opens his eyes to look at mom and then dad.

 

“He died before you were born,” Jon is the one to tell him.

 

“Good.”

 

And he didn’t even know a single thing about this man just five minutes ago, but he’s seen his mom’s scars and has seen her sad and whoever that man was, he hadn’t been a good one.

 

“Am I… am I anything-”

 

“No,” Jon and Sansa both answer his unfinished question at the same time.

 

“Every day, you get more and more like your dad,” Sansa gives him a smile.

 

“Good,” Brandon says again and he looks to his dad now, both sharing a smile. Jon leans in and gives him a kiss on his head.

 

Sansa swallows. “Would you…” it’s her turn to stumble over her words. “Would you like to know his name?” She then wonders.

 

Brandon pauses for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”

 

He sips his warm – not hot anymore – chocolate and notices that both mom and dad look completely relieved with his answer.

 

There’s no reason to know, in Brandon’s opinion.

 

He’s dead and it doesn’t matter. He has a dad; the best dad in the world and he has his mom and dogs and his brothers and sisters. He doesn’t need to know the name of a man who doesn’t even matter. Maybe one day, Brandon will change his answer, but right now, it doesn’t matter.

 

“If you ever have a nightmare like that again, just remember. You _did_ save me, Brandon,” Sansa says and Brandon looks at her again. She leans in again and kisses his forehead. “Are you alright?”

 

Again, he pauses. “I don’t know,” he then admits.

 

It’s a lot. He has known his dad isn’t his real dad. If Jon was, he wouldn’t have had to adopt him and he would have always had ‘Snow’ as his last name, but still, he’s the only dad Brandon’s ever known and doesn’t that matter more than anything? Jon Snow is as real a dad as any man can be. Brandon doesn’t care about anything else.

 

“We’re going to do something today,” Sansa then declares. “Absolutely anything you want. It’s your day today, Brandon.”

 

Brandon looks to his parents and doesn’t have to think. “Can we have a pajama day?” He asks.

 

His head kind of hurts at the moment, if he’s being honest, both from the nightmare that has all, but faded and from everything he’s just heard and he kinds of wants to do absolutely nothing.

 

Jon grins. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

 

Brandon gives a small smile and sips at his lukewarm chocolate and from either side of him, his mom and his dad both lean in and kiss him on the sides of his head.

 

…

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/47557212111/in/photostream/) Brandon Snow inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading. I'm proud of how this one turned out. And I know exactly what is happening in the next chapter of "you won't see me". I just have to get my mind in the right state to write it.


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